


Soul Staff

by CoopPenny



Series: I’m More Than You Think [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Celebrations, Cultural Differences, Dating, Día de los Muertos | Day of the Dead, Generally fluffy and nice, Language Barrier, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Magical Tattoos, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Master of Death Harry Potter, Mexico, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rites of Passage, Scarred Harry Potter, Smart Harry Potter, Tattoos, Wizarding Traditions (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:35:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27603611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoopPenny/pseuds/CoopPenny
Summary: Having moved on from America, Harry heads down south, eager to get his teeth into the different cultures that the different Magical Governments of the world had to offer.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Original Male Character(s)
Series: I’m More Than You Think [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1496369
Comments: 30
Kudos: 144





	1. Destination: Mexico

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is part three of a series so there are references to the former stories that you wont get if you don’t read them. That’ll be the reason you’re confused XD
> 
> I’m also really sorry cause I said I’d post this come September… and I didn’t…  
> Anyway, hope this is cool?

Looking around, Harry analysed every bit of detail that he could see before his bright green, intense eyes. He wore a cap firmly on his head, blocking out the unrelenting sun as well as draping a thin magical sheen over him that made most eyes that would usually be drawn to him, mist over and blink before turning away, no memory of the dark-haired teen with startling green eyes. The notice-me-not hat was really a thing of beauty in Harry’s eyes and he couldn’t thank his Sedamont ancestors more for inventing such a device.

It’s taken him a week to get to the southern border and through to Mexico, his friends calling him every day, just to check up and share silly stories about what had happened in classes or what Thomas and Dave had done now. Slowly, the calls were easing off, but Harry still found himself smiling brightly as they kept to their promises and had no intentions at all to sever all contact. Now, in a town with a name that was much too long and odd to pronounce (he’d taken a picture of the sign and sent it to the twins in America), he was sat at a cafe, drinking a green tea (no early grey, much to his displeasure) and eyes reading through his Spanish text that he’d picked up and bought just outside the country. He’d picked up a few important words and phrases in the few days he’d been here - an elderly lady that was kind enough to let him stay for the night, carefully pronouncing each thing in her kitchen, from a can of beans to her thread-bare dishtowel.

Sipping his tea once again, eyes skimming through the crowds, his magic fanning out around him in a searching way. There was a reason why he was in this unpronounceable town and that was mainly due to his magic, a feeling in his chest guiding him to an opening, a subtle blip that reminded him of the pup entrance to Diagon Ally and the small souvenir shop that he had to pass to get into the Miami magical mall.

Eyes searching around once more, he stiffened when he felt a bit of foreign magic tangle with his own. The entrance.

Immediately, Harry stood up, leaving a bit of money under his half-finished cup to pay, before tucking his book back into his travelling bag and swiftly swinging it over his shoulder. In less than a minute, Harry was out into the busy streets, expertly dodging people with his six years worth of practice in dodging students that were desperately trying to rush to their classes. Fingers twitching, he abruptly turned down a dark, hidden ally, a foul smell rising to meet his nose, but he ignored it easily. Feet slowing, he turned around to face the entrance, people rushing by in a herd of workers - trying to get to their jobs or school on time in the early morning. No one had followed him and no one had noticed.

Cautious, he followed his feet down the ally a bit more the blue trainers feeling even and confutable on the otherwise uneven ground, having to turn sideways as he avoided a pile of rubbish that had been left and forgotten, now rotting away in the Mexican heat. Further down the ally than he thought possible, Harry turned around and found the slip of light that indicated the entrance was now a small speck, the side of the house a lot wider than was physically possible, on the outside the sides of the houses looked only about ten feet wide, but it was clear to anyone that he had passed that make a quit a few feet back and still had more to go.

Continuing his walk, the foreign magic seeming to hum against his skin in a mix of excitement and eagerness, seeming to dance around him in a mix of patterns - oddly enough, he felt the burned Deathly Hallows mark warm pleasantly from under his arm, seeming to react accordingly to the presence. A few minutes of walking later, Harry spied a dim oil lamp up ahead, hanging from a small ridge that seemed to be part of a tiled roof. It looked strange amongst the old bricks, the roof being around two floors up. Jogging to the ridge, Harry saw that it had an old sign along the front of it: ‘ _Pippikin’s Library and Antiques_ ’, the dark paint faded and chipped to reveal the original wood due to weathering and age.

Eyebrow raised, Harry tentatively touched the door, nearly jumping back when the magic around him practically surged and danced with joy, the brand on his arm starting to tingle in a strange way. Nevertheless, he turned the old door-handle and it creaked open, the old door hitting a bell with a dull thump than a joyful jingle, making Harry wince at the loud noises in the silent air.

Cautiously stepping through the small gap in the door, Harry quietly closed the door behind him, eyes scanning the surrounding area with critical eyes. The light of the room was dim and didn’t travel far, making the dark corners of the room seem larger and darker than they should’ve, a thick layer of dust told tales of the place being abandoned, no one having stepped into the old library in what seemed like decades, the dust completely undisturbed. Feeling his old war instincts come up again, despite the pleasant magic that seemed to be trying to soothe his own which was now coiled with tension in case of an attack, drawing his wand from his forearm holster, fingers tight as he held the trusty stick.

Walking further into the room, Harry glanced at the dusty vases of summer flowers, wilted and dead, before moving into the stacks, still following the magic that was tentatively trying to lead him. Passing six shelves, Harry abruptly turned down the aisle and stopped, turning to face the dust-covered books that lined the shelves in a mix of neatly and messily organised. He could feel the magic in this section more than the others and Harry couldn’t help but allow his instincts to take over as his wand tapped a random sequence of books, before he finished. Frowning down at his wand as a couple of silent moments passed by, Harry began to feel a niggling of doubt in his instincts, when all the books he’d tapped slowly dragged themselves out like cogs in a machine that hadn’t been turned on or greased in ages. Stepping back, Harry watched with fascinated eyes as the dust suddenly seemed to evaporate from the room entirely, more of the books pulling out before tumbling to the floor, all of them laying open at his feet as more and more tumbled out of the shelves, more books than he’d expected to be there, all laying open on top of one another. When all movement stopped, Harry was greeted with the rush and movement of a town centre, people moving and bustling about, buying things, playing music or dancing in the streets, the books stacked up to form a massive arch for him to entire. Harry couldn’t help but compare the display of magic to his first entrance to Diagon ally, when he’d had to touch a series of bricks before they all rolled out of the way in a rigid movement.

Awed by his surroundings, Harry stood just outside of the passage, not minding that it was closing up directly behind him, taking in everything that he wished to. It was all so familiar and yet so different, it was truly exciting! He could just taste the magic in the air, the sensation wrapping around him like a warm hug, welcoming him with gusto and enthusiasm - he didn’t even feel as bothered as he usually would have by all the stares that had been drawn to him since entry. His hat was still firmly in place, but the passing glances before they forgot about him had Harry thinking that they were more intrigued by the strange Wizard, that was obviously European than the Twice-Saviour of the Wizarding world Harry Potter.

The street was narrow and seemed more like a well-trodden path compared to the old cobblestone paths of Diagon Ally. While there were houses and a few shop fronts, the main market place seemed to be filled with stalls that presented a manner of things from food to jewels, the merchants shouting loudly for attention as they listed off what they had to sell. Chattering and gossiping women stood off to the side, talking about this and that about their homes or their children or their husbands or wives, dark eyes shining with joy as they socialised or bought something from the loud merchants. Children from teens to younger years were dotted about the place, either placing chase or plotting deviant ways to cause mayhem in the market place - this made Harry frown as he knew that the children of this country would have been attending school by now, not still in their village, playing games.

What surprised Harry was what they all seemed to be wearing - or what they weren’t wearing should he say?

They didn’t have Wizard robes on.

Not one person in sight, elderly, middle-aged or otherwise, had on a set of robes (not that he could say anything with the fact that he was wearing a stylish dark blue vest top and camo-shorts that went to his knees). They were all colourfully clad in different types of materials, looking like a mixture of muggle and Wizard clothing as the males wore jeans and shirts, or no shirt at all in some cases, the little boys were sometimes barefoot as they ducked and covered around the tall adults, the women having an added cover of wraps or scarves that they wound around their torso or shoulders, ending it in a short bow or knot, before tucking the loose ends out of sight.

What was also strange was that they didn’t appear to have wands. Tell a lie, he saw the children with wands, flicking them at one another as they cast spurts of water at one another’s faces or made their hair a booger-like green, laughing and playing with the multitude of spells and charms at their fingertips. The adults, on the other hand, all bore staffs like Merlin. They seemed to be unique to their own person, much like wands, coming out to different woods with gems or a twist of decorative twigs from the ends, some as short as their thigh and Harry imagined them twirling it between their fingers and throwing it up in the air like a baton, and others were taller than the owners that carried them! Wide eyes gazing around, Harry’s mouth nearly dropped open when he saw a young Wizard, maybe a little older than Harry, with his shirt off, a colourful tattoo spread across his chest, reaching his fingers into the centre and pull something out! A few seconds later, the something revealed to be a staff, same as everyone else’s, the beautiful mark previously tattooed on his chest subsequently missing, their grin bright as they spun it around and made a posy of flowers for a girl right next to him.

Blinking out of his shock, Harry frowned as he wondered what had pulled him out of his shocked stupor, the air around him seeming to be thrumming of energy and magic, beckoning him forward, wanting to lead him somewhere. The allure was almost compelling but Harry managed to shake it off, putting his wand back before stepping out into the crowded streets, happy to blend in as he followed the wisps of magic (after all, those wisps of magic had helped him find the opening in the first place) to guide him through the town, stepping around crowds of people and running kids.

Within a few minutes, Harry was at a small entrance and paused with uncertainty, only shrugging and proceeding when he the magic around him reassured him of the place. Ducking his head to step in, Harry slowly looked about him, removing his hat upon entry, eyeing the cool exterior of baby blue walls and a light oaken dest with a bored lady sat behind it. Dark brown eyes lazily looked in his direction as brightened, her whole exterior perking up with the view of an obvious foreigner that could prove some sort of excitement to her boring day. Her eyes seemed to travel down in, investigating every nook and cranny of his physique, pausing momentarily on his numerous scars in interest and curiosity before looking into his bright green eyes and becoming instantly captivated by the exotic colour.

“ _Er, hello,_ ” he started, pronunciation a little shaky and hesitant as he stepped forward, “ _Please - forgive me, my Spanish is not - well._ ” he blundered through, blushing slightly when he was finished at how hard it was to communicate in another language.

The girl started to speak, slowly and carefully in which he smiled in gratitude to her and he was able to pick up the important details, catching the words ‘ _it’s fine_ ’, ‘ _welcome_ ’, ‘ _help_ ’, and ‘ _housing_ ’. With that, he summed the little shop up to be some kind of housing estate, setting people into places of rent or long-term housing. He had no intentions of staying for long so renting was the obvious choice in the deal.

“ _Rent?_ ” he asked, trying to portray his desire into that one word alone, “ _I get better. Promise._ ” he smiled, ignoring his broken Spanish, as he held up his book he was using to learn.

The woman seemed to smile fondly in return, eyes alight with amusement, before she shuffled around her desk and pulled out a silver key with the number six engraved into the edge of it as she said, “ _Like hotel_ ” and that was when Harry instantly got it, green eyes widening with realisation and mouth open on an ‘oh’ expression before he smiled and nodded. The woman then smiled and told him in rapid Spanish as she turned around to get the key, holding out her palm and indicating a line across it, Harry only catching the word “ _blood_ ” and “ _lose key_ ” in all the babble of words. He nodded with a confused frown, knowing that he’d either find out soon enough for never know.

“It’s a motel then,” he nodded, smiling to the girl, despite her confusion at his English words and then switched back for his benefit, “ _I understand. How pay?_ ” he asked, getting ready to dip his fingers into his bank-bag that was hidden on his belt loop, “ _Weeks? Months?_ ”

In response, the woman nodded, writing down on a slip of paper for months and then a figure beside it, before listing a bunch of dates that was at the end of every month. She handed the paper over and the end price at the bottom was what he presumed to be the deposit he’d have to put down and then pay the rest by the end of the month. And, so ever so eloquently, he leaned over the desk with the paper and pointed at the circled price, thanking any deity that was listening that the currency for Wizard money was the same all over the world, “ _Now?_ ” and with her nod, Harry was paying the fee and she was leading him to his temporary rooms.

After giving him the key and bidding him goodnight, Harry thanked her before turning to the door, sliding his key inside and turning, his other hand going to the long handle as he gripped it and pulled it down. Only to flinch back as a stringing cut appeared across the palm of his hand, surprised green eyes focused on the handle as his blood seemed to seep into the rustic gold, the long cut upon his palm instantly healing. He looked at the door that seemed to thrum with welcome, his magic mingling in with the motel’s and Harry suddenly had the realisation in what the woman had been talking about before. The room that he had rented out was now keyed into his blood in case he ever lost his key and then the door would be able to recognise him and still let him in. Smart.

Opening the door and slipping in, the lights turning on as they reacted to his presence in the room. It was a nice space all in all and Harry could feel the magic of the room as it had been stretched far past the physical realm. The living room was facing a pair of double doors that opened up and lead to the balcony facing the bustling street below, the kitchen at the back, completely unblocked by physical barriers. The kitchen space was small, but it had all the necessary items from an oven to a fridge. Opening the cool container, Harry acknowledged briefly that it was empty before closing, knowing that he could get whatever food he should need in the market place just outside.

Making his way through the plain but comfy home-setting, that seemed to go for a neutral setting for creams and browns for the walls and floor, of his motel room, Harry stepped to the first door on his left, looking around the bathroom which was a bath/shower hybrid with a murky curtain that he could draw across to keep the shower water in the bath and not over the floor. The toilet was beside it with a sink on the other wall, just below a large mirror that took up the majority of the wall - the colour scene was a nice mix of white and black tiles along the floor and walls, and though it looked a little worn with a few stains and such (he gave a light chuckle in imagining Malfoy’s reaction to the less than grand quarters).

The next door, which was the last, lead into his room, a small box room that looked to have struggled to contain the beige covered double bed, small bed-side tables on each side. A wardrobe dominated the right corner and a small dresser sat adjacent to it, the door nearly hitting the wooden chest. It was roomy and Harry had left in worse places before - the image of his small dark cupboard under the stairs with his spider friends came to mind. Smiling, he left the room and he untied the other bag from his belt, the opposite side to his money bag, setting it down in the middle of his living room, before pulling out his wand. With a wandless charm, Harry flicked his wand and watched with fond fascination as his magic worked, floating his belongings from the small bag, taking his folded clothes to his draws and wardrobe, taking out his small amount of kitchen appliances and the bit of food that would serve him dinner for one night, his magic spreading over the oven and hob as it heated everything up and started to cut up vegetables. While his magic was preparing dinner, Harry went to the centre table in the middle of the living room where his magic had placed the parchment quill and inkpot, settling down to draft a letter to Hermione about what he’d seen so far and how he was - hopefully she’d show it to everyone and the next letter sent his way would have little updates from all his British friends.

By the end of the evening, Harry had placed his dirty dishes in the sink and his letter was folded, stamped and left on the table, ready to find an international owl of some sort in the morning - momentarily, Harry considered buying himself another owl, but he instantly remembered Headwig and how she had died, Harry hadn’t even been able to retrieve her body as he ran away from the danger, and dismissed the idea. Yawning his excretion, Harry decided to turn in to bed and sleep off his travels, looking forward to discovering this countries way of magic and learning all that he could.

* * *

Two weeks passed as Harry got used to the foreign environment around him, doing nothing that to draw him unwanted attention as he went about his business. The foreign language book he’d bought was a god-send as he read it through and through religiously like a bible. However, the book was only part of his answers to the language barrier, his speech hesitant and broken when communicating in public. That was when he thanked the heavens for Lisa and Rainbow. Lisa was the girl behind the desk of the motel he was staying at and they both spent about an hour in one another’s presence whenever they crossed paths, her patience in teaching him the correct pronunciation a true gift when they spoke about nothing and everything. Rainbow was the waiter that worked at the cafe he frequented in the mornings and afternoons, talking to him in a mix of Spanish and English, the young male having expressed his desire to learn English, both laughing and learning from one another from Harry’s point on his little table of one.

In the time he’d spent there, he’d found their owlery, the birds small and fast as they plucked up his letter and delivered it within a few days, fighting against any and all weather conditions. Hermione and the others had been good, Ron expressing his demands for Harry to come back to England, where he belonged, while the others were pleasant in their letters, Luna and Neville apparently had started a relationship that looked quite serious while Draco was coming out of his shell after the battle, though he still seemed hollow from the whole ordeal. The American gang were doing well as the twins talked his ear off for hours down the phone, telling him about both Dave and Thomas moving into the apartment, Daisy expressing her interests in Dave with hushed whispers to him - after that conversation, they had departed with Harry’s demand to be invited to their wedding and godparent if their relationship were to ever come to that.

The market place was a nice area after the stares of interest and curiosity had diminished into nothing, all of them now well used to his presence in the area, some even giving him respectful nods as he passed (something that had Harry shifting with uncomfortableness as he jerkily nodded back). The market place was where he’d collected a manner of different things, from his food to little gift and trinkets that interested him or that he thought would be good to send to his friends for birthdays and Christmas. He’d already gotten Ron a book of Magical Mexico’s favourite sport which was something called Longquaffal which was when they wore these shoes and gloves that seemed to defy gravity, the players on the teams diving and falling as they tried to bat the ball with their body parts, trying to get it over a massive clear separation wall, the ball trying to evade them at all angles if one side drops it the other gets the point (it seemed kind of like an extreme netball). Already, he’d gone to a game with Rainbow and it proved to be very interesting, though Harry was still very much in love with Quiddich so perhaps he was a bit bias.

Not only was Harry studying the hell out of this new language, but he was also studying in general, wanting to absorb as much information as he possibly could. Divination was not a subject that Harry ever really liked due to the teacher constantly predicting his death, but he enjoyed the areas of it nonetheless, but at the moment, he was speeding through Ancient Runes, the markings appearing to be extremely interesting than how it sounded.

Sitting down at his usual spot in the cafe, a cup of tea in front of him as he leafed through the book, eyes scanning over every word and analysing every picture. He only gave a brief smile to Rainbow as he poured some more hot tea into his cup, exchanging a brief thanks before Harry was once again submerged into his book.

Unknowingly, hours slipped past him and a few people had sat down around him, all talking quietly amongst themselves as they glanced and stared at the light-skinned teen before them, laughing quietly at his obliviousness at his surroundings. Those nearest to him subtly leaned over to see what he was reading but found that they couldn’t when it was written in English instead of their native language that they only knew. The five native teenagers stared at the other teen, a little older than some of them and a little younger than some of them, but they could tell that he was something other than his appearance, the magic around him commanding unconscious respect from all of them as if he were royalty.

It was only when the boy closest to him, one that was a year younger than Harry, plucked the book from the teen’s lax hands did Harry blink back into awareness, cheeks reddening when he realised he was surrounded by five pairs of staring eyes.

“ _H-Hi,_ ” Harry uttered, slightly embarrassed, before he quickly cast a wandless tempus, mystical green eyes widening when he discovered the time, “Oh crap,” he muttered in English. Before the other teens could get a word out to him, Harry turned to them with a smile, emerald eyes piercing in a way that had them wanting to bow down to him, as he muttered a quick, “ _Sorry. Good day._ ” before gathering up his things and rushing into the crowds of people, leaving the five nameless teens staring after him, a niggling feeling still with them as they thought about the young teen.

“ _Well, he was interesting._ ” one of the girls stated before returning to their conversation of their studies and the next longquaffle game coming up.

One of the older male teens was still left looking in the direction in which Harry had shot in, an unreadable expression on his face.

“ _Diego? You okay?_ ” the girl spoke again.

The Hispanic teen nodded his head, “ _Yeah, I’m cool._ ” and then turned back to their conversation once again.


	2. Ancestors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it wasn’t clear in the first chapter, the italics are Spanish (or a different language) and non-italtics are English - this is only for speech btw!  
> Hope you like this one!

Walking down the nearly black roads at night, Harry admired the fact that even though it was night time, the air seemed just as hot as it was in the daytime with the blistering sun gunning down on his head and shoulders that was the Mexican heat. The usually bustling streets were bare and quiet, it was eery in Harry’s eyes and it had the three floating lights of lumos he’d made just a tad bit brighter in his uncertainty. At first, he'd been quite uncomfortable with the loudness of the area, the constant movement and talk of the streets, everyone seeming to move to a flow that was lost on Harry as he disrupted the smoothness with a hard shoulder and a quick apology - he’d gotten better with the crowd movement in the time he’d been there.

In the time that he’d been there, Harry had become more fluent in their language, though he still tripped over his words now and again, his constant communication in it helping him learn it faster than the time he’d learnt Latin with Hermione. Now, he could hold a proper conversation without having to revert back to pointing at things or nodding his head obliviously - Hermione and the American Gang were very impressed with his language skills when he’d told them.

Small stones crunching under his shoes, Harry quickened his pace as he progressed further down the street, ears pricked for any sudden movements or muttered curses, features hard as stone with his wand held tightly within his right hand, ready for an attack. He never understood why he was so paranoid when he walked in the dark by himself, but nothing good really came from the darkness and he hoped to avoid those problems and it was clear that Harry was far more battle-ready since after the war. Mentally, he cursed himself for losing track of time so badly that the librarian had to forcibly take the book away from him to tell him that the area had been closed for a good half-hour now, but Harry hadn’t been able to help himself getting caught up in his book which was far too interesting as it talked about the magical history of the area he was in. He’d just gotten to the part with the ‘ancestors’ when the old witch kicked him out and kept the book.

Sighing at the saddened memory, Harry slumped his shoulders, but they instantly tensed again when he caught sounds from down the ally way just ahead of him. Pausing momentarily, Harry listened to the tell-tale noises of a punch up and it sounded like it was multiple against just one. Suddenly, Harry found himself running before he could even debate the pros and cons of helping, quick and experienced eyes taking in the dark shadows of three against one, all three of the attackers with their staffs held out threateningly. Without a sound, Harry fired off three red steams that struck each one, in turn, sending their staffs in the air and closer to Harry, who merely kicked them further out of the ally and away from the attackers.

Instantly, Harry was in front of the down person, not taking the time to know their gender or age as he focused on the antagonists (though he kept their form in the corner of his eye, in case they attacked from behind). The three orbs around him lit the ally way enough for Harry to see that the thugs were about their early twenties, and all of them had three piercings on the helix of their left ear (a gang thing, maybe?).

“ _Why don’t we all just go in our different ways and no one else, namely you, gets hurt,_ ” Harry spoke in his heavily accented Spanish, voice gruff as he tensed, ready to fight and defend the helpless would-be victim.

“ _This has nothing to do with you, gringo. Now, take your baby staff and leave. I won't ask again._ ” the middle stated harshly, spitting at the ground.

This earned him a deathly glare from Harry, and unconsciously, the Englishman’s eyes began to glow an eery green, Avada Kadavra green which had the ally occupants tensing and stepping back with fear.

“ _If I was you, I’d leave before I do something to you that I won't regret,_ ” Harry growled out, looking far too scary for someone his age and stature.

As Harry’s power practically leaked out of him, ceasing the three thugs by the throat, they all looked close to wetting themselves at the display of such power that rippled against their skin. Stepping back and nearly falling as he did so, the leader nodded his head rapidly, stuttering out a rushed reply that was indecipherable to Harry, but he understood it more or less.

“ _Don’t come back._ ” he snarled at them, the air vibrating with his voice, and then scrunched his nose when one of the attackers actually wet themselves, the smell of urine disgusting a putrid in the intense heat.

With that, the three seemed to scramble over themselves to run away and Harry took a deep breath as he tried to calm himself down, drawing his power back into himself, his eyes dimming back into their normal intense green before he turned around and gave a hesitant smile to the person he’d saved that was now standing up. With the attention now focused on the person, Harry saw that they were male and young, around sixteen or fifteen, if Harry guessed correctly, an inch or so shorter than Harry himself. The teen wore a thin vest top and shorts, same as Harry, though he had a wand strapped to his left calf instead of a staff, like others that Harry had seen (perhaps it was an age thing?). His hair was short and a dark brown that matched his eyes, skin tone a natural bronze-like everyone else that lived in Mexico, his chin pointed and a dark mole could be seen right next to his ear.

“ _Hi,_ ” the Englishman greeted awkwardly, sliding his wand back into the holster, “ _I’m Harry._ ” and then stuck out his hand.

The other seemed to hesitate, before taking up the hand and giving it a firm shake, “ _I’m Jesus. Thanks for that, by the way. How’d you do that?_ ” he asked, seeming to become bolder with every word.

“ _Do what?_ ” Harry asked, head tilted to the side, expressing his confusion in what he’d done.

“ _You don’t- Your magic-_ “ the younger seemed to talk over himself, but at Harry’s increasingly furrowing brow, he sighed and gave up, “ _Never mind. Do you want to come home with me? I’m pretty sure my grandma would like to see someone that saved me from a beating._ ”

“ _Oh- no- really, I must be going home now. I’ve got dinner to cook and everything still._ ” Harry struggled to get out without sounding rude, his stomach once again making itself known as it gurgled in want.

“ _My grandma always cooks extra for the family. Come, it’s the least I can do for you._ ” Jesus persisted, dark eyes looking at Harry pleadingly.

For a moment, Harry gave the appearance of denying the request, but one more glance at the younger teen had Harry sighing loudly and Jesus cheering. “ _Okay, I’ll pop in for a moment before going home. I don’t want to intrude for long._ ” he relented, a smile tugging at his lips at the other’s enthusiastic response, and then gestured for the entrance of the ally, “ _Come on, we should be getting you home. What were you doing out so late anyway?_ ” he asked as they began a casual walk together, though not before the younger teen reached down to pick up a bag of something.

“ _I could say the same thing to you,_ ” Jesus rose his eyebrow and smirked when Harry gave him a deadpanned stare. Holding up his bag he said with all the sarcastic enthusiasm that one teenager could possess, “ _Groceries. You?_ ”

“ _Lost track of time in the library._ ” Harry shrugged his shoulders sheepishly, lightly shoving the other when he snorted a laugh.

“ _Should have figured that you’d be a bookworm. You seem the type._ ” Jesus teased with a mock-snooty tone, laughing when Harry rolled his eyes.

“ _My teachers would have disagreed with you,_ ” Harry muttered gravely, “ _It’s a thing that developed over time after I got a few things sorted._ ” Harry wasn’t quite able to hide the wince when he said that, pushing away the memories of discovering that his intellect had been suppressed for years without his knowledge.

Jesus seemed to clock on as he gave a small nod and then ignored it, choosing a completely different topic. The younger teen mainly talked about longquaffle and his favourite teams and his favourite position, asking Harry about quiddich and asking Harry to explain it in kind. Before long, they were passed Harry’s motel and down a little way before they came to a house on the corner, Jesus knocking a tune before it opened. Both were bathed in light as the door opened though they couldn’t go in further as a large figure blocked their way. Harry could immediately tell that Jesus and the figure were brothers, Jesus being the younger one while his brother seemed to be Harry’s age, if not a bit older. Jesus’s brother was about a head taller than Harry with dark hair that was spiked up, muscular arms exposed in his vest top, a large tattoo on his test as well as a set of multi-colour droplets around the crinkles of his eyes, jaw lightly chiselled with dark hair.

Quickly snapping himself out of his observations (which Harry was sure looked more like a greedy stare), he smiled somewhat awkwardly at the taller man.

“ _Who is this?_ ” he asked nodding to Harry, hands braced on either side of the doorway to keep them out, “ _New friend?_ ” he raised his eyebrows teasingly at his younger brother, who seemed to take the bate as he blushed a bright red and glares at his smirking brother. The elder chuckled deeply before his dark eyes refocused on Harry, eyes suddenly lighting up with recognition, “ _Hey, I know you!_ ” he claimed.

Frowning in confusion, and hoping that he wasn’t discovered at the ‘Boy-Who-Lived’ (he had a feeling that rumours travelled fast in this town), Harry shook his head, “ _No. We’ve never met._ ”

“ _I’m not surprised. You took off so fast, it’s a wonder you didn’t barrel into someone,_ ” the elder chuckled and grinned down at Harry when he blushed a light red, “ _You were reading an English book or something and you didn’t even notice us and our friends sitting down at your table. Then you noticed us, did a time spell and ran off._ ” he explained and Harry nodded, remembering the event, but not the people.

“ _Sorry about that._ ” he apologised sheepishly, wondering if he should leave.

“ _I’m Diego Hernandez,_ ” he introduced himself with a smile that had Harry’s stomach fluttering for some reason, before reaching over and shaking hands, “ _So what brings this union?_ ” he indicated Harry and Jesus.

“ _Oh, well-_ "

“ _It was amazing, D!_ ” Jesus interrupted enthusiastically, practically bouncing as he dragged Harry into the house and shoved past Diego, the latter closing the door behind him when Jesus swivelled them around to face the elder again. “ _I was nearly mugged by the Thrice Gang when-_ “

“ _What?!_ ” someone interrupted them and a lady with long white hair and a wrinkled countenance seemed to morph-speed in front of Jesus, grabbing his face and turning it this way and that before, ignoring her younger grandson’s muffled protests as she turned him around and lifted his arms, checking for any kind of injury.

“ _Grandma,_ ” Jesus groaned, “ _I’m fine! Harry saved me._ ” he pointed to the green-eyed teen, who was then suddenly very aware of everyone’s eyes upon his person.

“ _Er, hi,_ ” Harry shifted back a bit, “ _Sorry for intruding. I should really be going now._ ”

“ _Nonsense!_ ” the woman suddenly exclaimed, snatching Harry round the shoulders and leading him further into the house, “ _You helped Jesus, the least we can do is get you some food! You are far too skinny! You need fattening up!_ ” she claimed before forcing Harry into one of the cream-coloured high back chairs.

Blinking at the sudden progression of things, Harry turned to the two other occupants, “ _Your grandmother is very nice._ ”

Diego smirked down at Harry before he sat down the opposite of him, “ _That she is. So, you got a last name, Harry?_ ”

Gulping and hoping that they were too far away from Britain and Europe for them to know his name, he answered, “ _My name’s Harry Potter._ ” The resounding silence throughout the room was not at all comforting, neither was the twin pairs of wide eyes as they looked at him. Merlin, this was awkward - 

“ _The Master of Death…_ ” Diego breathed and Harry’s eyes instantly snapped up to meet the older boy's astonished dark brown. Bolting out of his chair, he stepped round to the corner of the room, making sure that his exits were clear, eyes wide and suspicious, face nearly completely drained of blood.

Swiftly, Harry unleashed his wand from the hidden holster, poised and ready for attack, his eyes wide and slightly terrified as they bounced from brother to brother. They didn’t appear to be sinister or malicious in any way, more awed (Jesus) and sheepish (Diego). Emerald eyes were trained on the older brother as he moved to stand up, hands out in surrender and trying to make his face safe and open for Harry’s benefit as if he were a scared and feral cat that just needed to calm down.

“ _How did you know that?_ ” Harry gritted out, green eyes glowing with his contained and building magic.

“ _So it’s true?_ ” Jesus stood up, looking eager, but froze when Harry levelled his deathly glare to the young teen, wand pointed briefly at him in warning.

“ _No,_ ” Harry growled, ignoring the burn of his mark as if it was displeased at Harry’s rejection of it, “ _No one controls death. No one should._ ” With one last glare at the two brothers, Harry re-holstered his wand knowing that it was rude to draw ones wand in someone’s home when not being attacked. “ _But that doesn’t tell me how you could possibly know that. Unless the Gringott Goblins have shared that information against my wishes, in which I highly doubt._ ” he glared, ignoring the way that the room seemed to grow darker with his ire and magic.

The brothers noticeably shivered at the display of raw power, Diego putting on a hesitant smile as to try and calm the situation down. “ _You don’t really know the area that well, do you?_ ”

Frowning in confusion, Harry wondered what he meant, “ _Not as well as London, but I can get by the streets okay._ "

In response, Diego smiled, genuinely and fond, something that made Harry’s cheeks enflame and shift lightly as butterflies shot through his stomach. What was with that smile! Ignoring it in favour of more important issues, Harry focused his eyes once again as he willed away the blush - it didn’t help when the taller teen seemed to smirk in a devilish way.

“ _Not like that. Our magic. You’ve seen that we are different from you,_ ” he indicated his chest of colourful markings that held his staff, and then Harry’s holstered wand. “ _When you stepped through to our town, how did you find us? What did it feel like?_ ” he encouraged, smile gentle and patient as Harry’s brow crinkled in thought, casting his mind back.

He remembered when he’d felt that wisp of magic, the way the magic seemed to dance around his own in sheer joy at the small interaction, the way it led him to the hidden library as if leading him by hand. With a small nod, Harry repeated his thoughts to the other, making Diego and Jesus smile widely and excitedly at one another before turning back to Harry.

“ _While it is true that we have wands for small children and training, they get a staff at age seventeen. The reason for this is because of where we live. The veil between life and death is murky and diluted, spirits of the past visiting the plane of the living from time to time - no one knows why this is. However, do to this dilemma, our magical cores are naturally smaller than yours. We can access it more when children, which is why they train with wands, but it gets harder as an adult, that is why we convert to staffs as they can store our magic inside and outside of our bodies giving us a magical boost if needed. But there is also the ancestors -_ “

“Wait,” Harry interrupted in English, suddenly excited, but made sure to switch to Spanish for their benefit, “ _I was just about to read this at the library when I was kicked out. It’s like a natural source, isn’t it?_ ”

As Diego made a ‘sort-of’ motion, Harry tilted his head to the side in mild confusion and curiosity, “ _Yes and no. The ancestors are the spirits of our family; that is the magic you felt when you first entered. Our ancestors lead you to us and told us about the Great Master of Death that had come to grace us with his presence. Rumours among the dead have told us of your benevolence, your courageousness and your legendary magic, things worthy of your earned title._ ” Diego stated, nearly bubbling with happiness.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” the Englishman interrupted with a wave of his hands, cutting off their hero-worship, “ _I am not any of those things. Everything that ever happened to me was out of desperation and mere accidents. I didn’t even believe in the story of the three brother’s until the Battle of Hogwarts, where I should have died._ ” he emphasised, stepping back and suddenly feeling ashamed at not being able to live up to their gold-painted image of him.

“ _Nonsense!_ ” the brothers’ grandma walked back in, using her crooked staff for support as she carried some platters of food to the table, the brothers rushing to help (Harry rushed to help too but had to dance away from the staff as the elder woman attempted to ward him off), “ _You are the Master of Death!_ ” he declared poking her staff in his direction, “ _You are the Boy-Who-Lived, Twice-Saviour of Wizarding Britain, evaded the Killing Curse twice! We have heard tales and truth to your achievements - leading a war at age seventeen, defeating a Dark Lord and conquering many other things in your childhood, in which no child should go through. That scar on your hand was not from the Dark Lord, I take it._ ” she enquired, old eyes suddenly clear and focused as they were trained on Harry’s hand that was caused by his Umbridge detentions. Harry stepped back as the two other sets of brown eyes (all so alike) also zero in on his hand, faces getting darker at theories running through their heads. Thankfully, they said nothing of it.

“ _Fine!_ ” Harry relented, throwing his hands in the air, “ _I did those things, but not because I chose to, but because I was forced to. That does not make me benevolent in any way._ ” Harry argued, determined to set them straight.

“ _Ah,_ ” the woman held up her finger which seemed as crooked as her staff, “ _That is where you are wrong. Your were forced into that circumstance - yes. But you chose to do the right thing and that is why Death chose you…_ ” she finished mystically.

“ _But-_ “

“ _Enough,_ ” the woman interrupted him with a clap of her hands before she started to waddle to her seat which Diego had pulled out for her. “ _We eat now. Enough of this talk. Sit down, child._ ”

Slightly outraged, Harry went to protest but was cut off before he started as Diego turned to him, a fond smile once again directed at Harry. “ _You better do as she says. Grandma is very fierce about eating._ ”

Nodding with reluctance, Harry seated himself at the table in the chair that Diego had directed to him. Almost immediately, the woman was piling his plate full of so much carbohydrates, Harry felt that it could last him a whole week to finish.

Tone soft, as not to be rude, but desperate, Harry interrupted, “ _Ma’am, I can’t eat all of that. It is too much!_ ”

“ _Nonsense!_ ” she batted his protests away, piling up his plate with one more scoop of mashed potatoes. Then she turned steely brown eyes on Harry that looked so fierce that it made him gulp loudly and feel incredibly guilty for no reason at all, “ _And I am not ‘ma’am’, you can call me Mama Rosalie._ ”

“Er…” Harry trailed off, looking to the others for help, but pouted upon finding that both brothers had turned their head away from his direction entirely. Cowards. “ _Okay… Mama Rosalie…_ ”

The woman then smiled at him radiantly, digging into her own meal with gusto.

Subtly, Harry leaned towards Jesus, who sat beside him, whispering, “ _I feel like I just fell into a trap…_ ”

Sombrely, the young teen nodded, “ _You did. She practically just adopted you into the family,_ ” he then smiled at Harry widely, “ _You’ll probably be ambushed by the rest of the family tomorrow. Be prepared to meet all out cousins and second cousins in the next week._ ”

Groaning lowly, Harry turned back to his meal and started to make his way through the mountain of food, ignoring Diego’s amused smile and Mama Rosalie’s nod of approval. Just what he needed, another mother… Instantly, Harry imagined, Molly Weasley, Lucy Steale and Mama Rosalie getting together and trading mothering ways with one another. Harry shuddered at the thought and prayed to any God that was listening for that catastrophic union not to happen, in any shape or form…

The world just wouldn’t survive it…


	3. Celebrations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a message for those that read my other stories: just warning you guys that I wont be updating for at least 2 weeks for stories that aren’t pre-written ('Soul Staff' and ‘Murder Playground’ are pre-written) I have deadlines to meet and barely any coursework to show for it. After that’s done and dusted, I will get back to the other stories. Thanks for being so patient!

The next week was terribly hectic and chaotic for Harry.

For reasons stupidly unknown to Harry, he decided to brush off Mama Rosalie’s mothering and Jesus and Diego’s warnings of her mothing ways. In all honesty, Harry thought that they would just be friends, if not a family friend, that sees him in the streets and asks him if he’s been eating well or trying to control what he buys and just being borderline annoying but tolerable at the same time.

This was a mistake!

Harry could not make this any more clearer!

After going home to his apartment, having been walked home by Diego, the older teen (he was about nineteen, while Jesus was sixteen and Mama Rosalie was eighty-two) having been armed with his tall staff that was carved with ringlets of cute bears ‘fighting’ all over the light wood. When he walked out into town the next day, intent on checking out the book he’d been reading the night before, he was practically bombarded by the older woman and for a moment his brain blanked out in surprise, missing half of her frantic babbling as she pulled him this way and that by the vice-like grip she had on his hand.

Taking notice, everyone around them seemed to be preparing for something, carrying baskets of food, setting up tents for games and cooking, as well as putting up glistening streamers over their heads. There was also the fact that everyone seemed to be getting ready for something, with nice dresses or clothes being compared to one another out in the open, and children lining up to get their faces artfully painted by adults; some of the adults even wearing face paint themselves. There was also the most concerning thing when he passed, everyone seemed to stop what they were doing and bow, even the children, but they looked extremely happy about it as they did so, which made him even more unnerved. It was clear that rumours of his ‘Master’ status spread around like the damn Great Fire of London!

He couldn’t even begin to get angry or feel betrayed, as he remembered what Diego had told him about the spirit realm rumour mill. There was a chance that they had all known since he’d arrived and had wanted to bow since then, but now that the fact was out in the open, they weren’t hiding it any more. Diego confirmed this theory later on in the day.

Fumbling over his own feet in an effort to keep up with the surprisingly fast eighty years old woman, Harry was relieved when they finally stopped at Mama Rosalie’s house, though that relief soon faded into dread when he was shoved into the chair he’d occupied the night before and was bombarded by heaps and heaps of people that all had the same kind of appearance as the Hernandez brothers.

Over the course of the hour that he was trapped in that chair, he’d shaken hands with almost every man in the room that his arm ached something fierce, and kissed so much that his cheeks looked like they had an elegiac reaction to something, his sun-kissed skin looking red and blotchy (he’d also been forced to kiss a few baby’s heads as to ‘bless’ them for the parents). By the time he was introduced to the family as a whole - it was three times as big as the Weasley family, and that was saying something - he had been released and stumbled his way into the bathroom as to wash the lipstick off his face.

Sadly, Mama Rosalie found him after that and was gleefully thrown into another room by the old woman, the door closing firmly behind. Looking up at the other occupants of the room, he saw three others, one boy and two girls. The only other male in the room had dark hair and dark eyes, though they held a single fleck of green within them that made them look hazel for a split second, with a piercing on the right side of his lip and two shaved lines on his left eyebrow. One of the girls looked similar to the boy, her eyes a hazel colour instead of brown while her hair was long and dark, fanning around her hips, with a flowery tattoo that seemed to move in an invisible wind as it wound up her left arm. The other girl was completely different from the first two, she was pale, with platinum blonde hair and snow-white eyebrows and eyelashes, her eyes a crystalline blue that could be compared to ice - she was what Harry thought to be albino. He could only imagine the painful sunburns that the girl would get due to her pale complexion (he remembered when Ron often complained about the Scotland heat in the summer and his inability to tan due to his 'ginger-gene' as he called it). Though all of them seemed to have a triplet of teardrops on noticeably on their skin, the boy and girl look-alike had them around both of their eyes, while the albino had them on her neck. The silence between the four was on the knife’s edge of awkwardness before Harry straightened and cleared his throat.

“ _Hi, I’m Harry._ ” he greeted nervously.

The was a moment of silence once again before the pale girl seemed to take pity on him, smiling with a small wave, “ _Hi. I’m Juana Gracia. This is Fernanda Flores and her younger brother Fernando Flores._ ” she then looked hesitant in what to say next before she seemed to settle on, “ _Do you know why you’re here?_ ”

“To get killed maybe?” he muttered bitterly in English, before switching back to Spanish, “ _No idea. But I’m guessing it has something to do with my… status_.” he finished awkwardly, making himself blush with embarrassment as he rubbed the back of his head. Almost instantly, three pairs of eyes zoned in on the symmetrical black lines of the Deathly Hollows that was under his arm, making him rush to put his arm back down - he really needed to break that habit…

“ _The Master of Death,_ ” Juana nodded, flipping her hair over one shoulder, “ _Yes._ ”

“ _Almost didn’t believe it if the Ancestors weren’t raving about you so much._ ” Fernando rolled his eyes, earning a smack to the arm from his sister, earning her a smack in turn. It was clear that the age difference wasn’t far between them.

“ _Ignore him,_ ” Fernanda intoned with a roll of her own eyes, “ _He’s just acting up because he was put in here with us. Just goes to show that Mama Rosalie doesn’t trust him to dress himself._ ”

“ _So, I’m here to get ready?_ ” Harry asked, wondering if he should feel offended or relieved - he wasn’t exactly sure how he would go about doing the face-paint if that were mandatory for celebrations.

“ _Yeah,_ ” Fernanda nodded sparing him a comforting smile at how nervous he obviously looked, “ _Don’t worry, you’re in great hands._ ”

“ _Somehow I don’t feel comforted…_ ” Harry muttered, earning a loud laugh and a thump on his back from Fernando.

“ _Too right, amigo._ ” he chuckled.

For the next three hours, Harry was in fashion hell! He was forced into many shirts and trousers, ranging from soft cotton to tight leather, an assortment of colour schemes held up to his eyes, hair, and skin complexion, the two girls discussing how they should paint his face in such rapid Spanish that Harry found it hard to follow. He’d been washed, groomed, and clothed like a Ken barbie doll and Harry was almost at the end of his wits by the time they had settled down to a decision. The only thing that kept him sane was the one-man support team that was Fernando. The Latino boy had been dressed and groomed much faster than Harry has, but that was only due to the fact that the girl had known him for longer and knew what worked with the teen and what didn’t.

In the end, Harry was looking into the long, slim mirror with admiring but concerned eyes. He was dressed in something that would have had the twins in America nodding in approval, his trousers were skinny black jeans that were beginning to look grey, his top was a leather vest up that was done up with three silver leaf-style clasps from one side of his hip to the bottom of his ribs, the leather wrapping around him like a hug. The style of the clothing kind of reminded him of what Jedis wore in that Star Trek movie, or whatever it was called… The vest-top showed off his collar bones and made the expanse of his pale neck seem longer, his shoulder and arms bare to the warm Mexican air and his feet were oddly bare for reasons unknown to Harry as he was far too scared of the women to ask.

After his clothing had been picked out, they descended upon his face. Honestly, he’d tried to protest as politely as possible, but one double glare from the two fiery women had him gulping and staying still - he studiously ignored the laughing male in the corner to him. By the time he looked in the mirror, his face was partially coloured and he begrudgingly admitted that he looked kinda cool, though he’d never say that out loud, even under threat of the killing curse. They’d made his eyes stand out, mascara and eyeliner making the green of his eyes ‘pop’ in a sense, they made his eyelashes look longer and thicker and the green of his eyes naturally brighter. They didn’t do much with his hair, leaving the jet-black loose curls to hang where they were, the end of it tickling his jaw now with how long it’s grown. They just combed it out of his face for a while as they got to work on the face-paint. They stuck to the colours of green, black and white mainly, a cluster of black and green flowers taking over part of his forehead (thankfully, covering his scar) and down the left side of his face, one green petal nearly touching the corner of his eye and the last one, a small black one, nestled at the bottom of his jaw. White swirls connected the flowers to one another and curled over the painted petals, and then travelled down his neck and partially over his throat. On the other side of his face, it was bearer but it still outlined a skull jaw and teeth on the lower part of his face, the online in black and with a few specs of white painting to add a little more detail. A lone tear was also painted in black just beside his eye to complete the look.

Finally finished, the girls stepped back from their work and smirked at one another with a hidden look in their eyes that Harry couldn’t quite decipher. Pleadingly, he turned to Fernando, but his frown deepened when he caught the other male looking at Harry with wide eyes and dull red bleeding into his cheeks, spreading further down his neck by the second.

“ _‘Nando?_ ” Harry asked cautiously, wondering if he caught some kind of illness, “ _Are you okay?_ ”

“ _Yeah,_ ” he croaked out, sounding strangles, his hands desperately coming up to his face, as if to cover it.

“ _I look ridiculous, don’t I?_ ” Harry finally gathered, feeling embarrassed as he now knew that the teen was desperately trying to hold in his laughter.

“ _No!_ ” Fernando blurted out, hands out as if to stop him from storming off, “ _You look fine - beautiful even!_ ” and then seemed to abruptly stop, face becoming enflamed. He mumbled something under his breath before he left the room in long, quick strides, keeping his eyes steadily down.

There was a moment of silence within the room as the girls tried to hide their laughter behind hands and Harry just stared at the closed door with utter confusion. He then turned to the snickering girls, pointing in the direction that his masculine companion had stalked off in, “ _Do I wanna know?_ ” he asked, uncertainly.

Simultaneously, the girls looked at one another and grinned, before looking back at a concerned Harry and shook their heads. Fernanda was the one to talk, “ _No, you don’t. But you do look great, as a Master of Death should._ ” she grinned at him, admiring her work as her eyes travelled up and down his body, bypassing his numerous visible scars as if they weren’t there.

With that reassurance, Harry was led downstairs to the living room and breathed a subtle sigh of relief at the large room being empty. He didn’t want another bombarding of fast-talking Mexican women touching him and kissing him again, it was just creepy. Looking out the window, Harry marvelled at the fact that it was getting dark outside, almost twilight, and the information that it had taken him all day to get ready and suitable for a public appearance, according to the two girls behind him (apparently cousins, and also cousins to the Hernandez brothers).

However, his attention was once again diverted when three people emerged from the kitchen, all three coming to a stop when they saw him and the girls. Harry couldn’t help the intense blush on his cheeks as he caught Diego (a few colourful swirls and an online of a skull on his features painted on his face) dark eyes, scanning him up and down, before making eye contact and licking his lips - Merlin, what was wrong with his stomach! Jesus (the lower part of his face completely covered in a skull outline with multiple loose petals around his eyes) just smirked at Harry as he looked between him and Diego with suggestive eyebrows, making Harry’s eyebrow twitch minutely in annoyance and Mama Rosalie (a few scattering of petals around her eyes and cheeks, her dark eyes looking hollow with the circle of black paint there) cupped her hands over his heart, pride practically radiating off of her as she looked at Harry.

Suddenly, she was in Harry’s space as she cupped his cheeks with delicate hands, as not to smudge the still-slightly-wet paint, “ _Ah, you look wonderful, Harry, absolutely wonderful._ ” she repeated as she grabbed his shoulders and spun him around to see how the rest of him turned out.

Just as suddenly as she was there, she was gone, and Harry was left blinking in astonishment, though he knew she didn’t go far as he could hear her outside shouting about lights and decorations. Though, he didn’t have time to dwell as Diego was suddenly by his side and had swept Harry’s arm up to be cradled in the crook of his own, an award-winning smile plastered upon his face.

“ _My name is Diego Hernandez and I will be your escort this evening,_ ” he stated professionally as he moved them forward and out through the front door, in which Harry was startled out of his reply as to gape at the beautiful display around him.

The whole street was set up for a party. There were lights overhead, fairy-lights strung from building to building, weaved and crossed over one another like there were a million stars in the sky. Glittering sparks of small fireworks cracked and banged as they jumped over people’s heads and danced before their eyes before dancing off; they kind of reminded Harry of the Weasley twins’ exit from Hogwarts in his fifth year, but these seemed to be less intense and didn’t attack or set fire to certain people. There was a long table that held an assortment of different foods, from meats to carved fruits, all of them displayed in an artful way that Harry was reluctant to ruin by eating it; a chocolate fountain was large and grand at the end of the table, surpassing the width of it and nearly touching the roof of fairy-lights - if Harry would have to guess, he would say that it was as tall as Hagrid - a number of different things on large platers orbiting slowly around it for people to dip into the warm chocolate; a large naked cake seemed to be the epicentre to the whole food display, sitting in the middle of the table with five large towers of different sponges and fillings, from chocolate to victorian to red velvet, a trail of ‘falling’ berries pinned to the side of it and coming across the bottom. Off to the side, Harry could see that there was a small entertainment for children, a small diving board coming up to Harry’s head and a line of antigravity gloves and shoes like they used in longquaffle, though not as high in power. Already, Harry could see that the children were having the time of their lives, throwing themselves off of the tall dive-board and then floating up again, giggling and squealing as the supervisor made amazed faces and got them down to the floor when they wanted to. There was music and dancing, all the adults wearing the same clothing as Harry as well as the face-paint to all varying degrees of flowers and skulls - no two were the same in design. In all, the place was absolutely beautiful and he couldn’t help but mutter his awe in his native tongue, earning a curious look from Diego, though he appeared to mentally shrug it off.

“ _This is amazing,_ ” Harry breathed in Spanish, looking back up at Diego when he squeezed Harry’s hand.

The elder was smiling down at Harry with a fondness that had Harry automatically smiling wider and pulling himself closer to the elder as they walked the extravagantly changed streets. Surprisingly, Harry noted that the ground wasn’t rough or hurtful to his bare feet, as a dirt road of small stones should have been. Perhaps there was a spell placed that made the ground softer?

“ _It’s a gift from the ancestors,_ ” Diego started, having noticed Harry’s surprised looks to the ground, “ _Someone, long ago, on one knows who, blessed the ground to be soft and can bend to anyone’s purpose, be that for framing or a path to walk down. After they passed, the magic upon the ground began to fade and so the Ancestors decided to concentrate their magic upon sustaining the blessing with their own mix of magic._ ”

“ _Sounds a bit like_ Hogwarts _._ ” Harry smiled, remembering when he was eleven years old and just about to be sorted, Hermione listing off facts in a rapid fashion from her word for word studying of Hogwarts: a history.

“Hogwarts?” Diego asked, obviously having never heard of it.

“ _It’s a magical boarding school in Britain that I went to,_ ” he explained, happy to tell someone that didn’t know about it, “ _There were four founders for the school that made up four houses that the students were sorted into._ Rowena Ravenclaw _for the overly intelligent,_ Helga Hufflepuff _for the loyal,_ Godric Gryffindor _for the brave, and_ Salazar Slytherin _for the cunning. They were really powerful and people say that they were so powerful that when they passed, their magic seeped into the walls of the school and made it ‘sentient’. It kind of made the school lookout for the students in creating them hidden rooms and secret passageways and such._ ” he finished with a wince, knowing that Hermione would have explained it better than he ever could. “ _So, what school did you go to?_ ”

Smiling, Diego shook his head, leading them slowly to one end of the street that looked to have some games that wouldn’t look out of place in a muggle carnival (which he’d never gone to, but he’d read about them in picture books when he was little). “ _We do not have schools. Not really._ ”

“Oh,” Harry started, becoming instantly fascinated by how the education differed from Europe’s, “ _How did you learn then?_ ”

“ _We are taught in our towns. All of the elders in the town teach something to the children, whether it be general teachings or a specific trade that they want to learn when they’re older. Every town is like that, but this can lead to rivalry such as the Thrice Gang that you saved Jesus from. Usually, the outside towns are civil, but the Thrice Gang have a minority that acts upon us in violence._ ” Diego explained.

“ _It’s good to know that school rivalry is worldwide._ ” Harry sighed, casting his mind back to all those other problematic things with Hogwarts as well as other schools he’d attended or seen. At Diego’s inquisitive glance, Harry decided to expand on his comment, “ _There was a huge rival between my schoolhouse and another, or between ‘pureblood’ and ‘others’._ ” he rolled his eyes at the first term - it had caused him more trouble than it was ever worth. Then his eyes widened in sudden realisation, “Oh Merlin, _you guys aren’t like that are you?_ ”

The tension in Harry’s shoulders instantly deflated when Diego shook his head once again, “ _We don’t have such words here. Magic is magic, whether it be deemed light or dark matters not to us - it’s the intent behind the magic that counts in our eyes. People of magic born outside of our community is brought in as a very young child - the parents often not wanting them - or bring the family as a whole._ ” he shrugged, their ways of dealing with muggleborns completely remarkable in the eyes of a British Wizard that would have to drown in laws, regulations and rights before anything could ever be done about one child. Harry had to say, Mexico had it right.

“ _That sounds a lot easier than our ways, which are dumb compared to yours._ ” Harry shook his head, Draco and Lucius’ words echoing in his head from years past.

“ _It’s not easy for you?_ ” he asked, a frown of concern on his face.

“ _No, that’s what our most recent war was about,_ ” Harry mentioned offhandedly, trying to hide how much bringing it up effected him, “ _One side was for the light: accepting all Wizards and Witches born outside of our world without hesitance, as well as being totally against any kind of dark spells. Another side was for the dark: they basically said that muggleborns stole their powers and should be killed along with all muggles and that half-bloods should only count as second-class citizens and pro killing curse and all that._ ”

“ _This is the war that you lead?_ ” he asked, a frown of concern marring his features.

“ _Forced. I wanted nothing to do with it, but the Dark Wizard, Voldemort stuck a piece of his soul in my head,_ ” he pointed for good measure, “ _And the headmaster at my school thought that he could use my death to bring up morale from the light side and finally defeat_ Voldemort _. It didn’t really stick…_ ” he muttered darkly, eyes clouded with memories of all his past sufferings that was merely Dumbledore getting him to jump through holes when he said ‘go’. A warm hand on his cheek had him coming back to himself and to reality, making him blink away the horrors of his past.

Instantly, he started to blush a bright red when he realised that they were extremely close, Diego ducking his head down and tilting Harry’s head up gently as to sustain eye contact, their noses nearly touching with their proximity. The look in Diego’s dark eyes had Harry feeling a bit weak in the knees; it was so open and sincere looking as if he could see into Harry’s very soul and know everything that he’d been through.

Coughing slightly, Harry looked away, his cheeks now scarlet, “Er, _I didn’t mean to tell you all that… I’m usually quiet about the war, bad memories and such. Too many losses…_ ”

“ _But you survived,_ ” Diego persisted in a soft tone, his warm hands suddenly wrapped around Harry’s own, his thumb brushing gently over the scarred words from fifth year, “ _Some may think your scars are a weakness and evidence of failures, but,_ ” he stated firmly, calloused fingers coming up to Harry’s chin and tilting it up from where the younger had ducked his head in shame, “ _I do not think that. They are something to be proud of. They are evidence that you were strong enough to survive against all odds, that you conquered those that would attack you and survived and you come back stronger and more beautiful than ever before. Every title that you have and could ever get is more than deserved._ ”

“ _How do you know that?_ ” Harry asked, a light sheen of tears making his green eyes seem larger and glitter in the million lights above them, shining like jewels, their breathes mingling as they unconsciously got impossibly closer to one another.

“ _Because I see it in your eyes, your soul,_ ” Diego breathed, his heated breath ghosting over Harry’s parted red lips, “ _I feel it in my heart._ ” he finished and then leaned down, capturing Harry’s lips with his own.

For an instant, Diego felt like he’d made a dreadful mistake and had read all the wrong signals when he didn’t feel Harry reciprocate the kiss, the younger’s full hot, red lips immobile against his own. But then he felt the cold dread leak out of him, replaced with a torrent of warmth from head to toes as Harry responded, lips responding hesitantly against his own. The kiss was almost addicting with how sweet it was, and as they parted for air, they looked longing into one another’s eyes before diving back in, the second kiss harder with a clash of teeth as Diego moved forward and Harry moved back, the younger’s hands buried in the taller’s short hair, nails lightly scratching his scalp, as Diego’s hands gripped Harry’s hips and then circled around his back, hands never parting his form.

The kiss carried on for an indescribable amount of time in the dark corner of the street party, either no one saw them or they just left the couple well enough alone, as they were completely undisturbed. By the time they separated, they were panting heavily and both redder than ever, hands still clinging to one another, which was a good thing as Harry didn’t think that his legs were reliable enough to support him just yet.

“ _Look,_ ” Diego started, eyes staring deeply into Harry’s green ones, as his forehead rested on Harry’s own, “ _I know that you’re going to be passing on soon and I know that this won't last for long, if a couple of months,_ ” he took a heavy breath inward, eyes closing briefly before they opened and looked down into Harry’s once again like he was the only thing in existence, “ _But it’d really like to take you out on a date some time._ ”

Smile slowly growing, Harry nodded, “ _I’d like that,_ ” and then they dived out for a heated kiss once again, clothes and hair more messed up than before - Harry thanked Merlin that the girls had charmed the paint to be un-smudge-able for up to five hours once tried, or it would have been a distorted mess. As they parted again, breathes still mingling, Harry stared up into the taller male’s eyes, “ _You know we’re both just setting ourselves up to be hurt, right?_ ”

“ _I know, but I can’t resist you._ ” Diego kissed Harry’s lips once again, this time being more of a peck than the heated kisses from before.

“ _Neither can I,_ ” Harry muttered into his ear and caught a quick flash of a grin before Diego dived down to Harry’s neck, kissing, sucking and biting, before moving back to Harry’s lips to greedily swallow up those sensuous moans of his.

Several minutes passed before both teenagers stepped back into the light to join the celebrations, Diego and Harry meeting up with Jesus, Fernanda, Fernando and Juana along the way as they did games together and danced together, before sitting down for a meal of finger foods, Diego getting Harry’s food as he held down the small table that they had been fortunate to find. He also bumped into Rainbow and Lisa during the party, talking to them in a rapid mix of Spanish and English due to the amount of alcohol he’d consumed.

In all, it was a great night and Harry was just a bit drunk by the end of it, Diego taking it upon his gentlemanly self to walk him home and make sure that he got home safe. He left Harry neatly tucked into bed with most of his clothes still on - Diego having removed his trousers so that Harry could be more comfortable while asleep. When Harry woke up with a slight headache, he moved to his kitchen and found a small white note that was neatly folded in half, a small purple flower beside it. Smiling widely, Harry picked up the note and nearly squealed when he read it:

**_Meet you Tuesday noon at yours._ **   
**_Bring your camera._ **   
**_~D_ **

With a sigh, hugging the note to his chest, Harry let himself fall back weightlessly on his sofa, a goofy smile on his lips that he just could will away. Travelling to Mexico was by far the best thing he could have done. He couldn’t wait to tell his friends over in America and Britain! Hermione was gonna freak!


	4. Staffs and stags

A month had passed in the time that Harry had attended the street-party thrown in his honour, a month since he’d kissed Diego in a shadowed part of the festival, a little under a month since he’d sent letters off to Britain and America, sending both mothering friends into squeals of frenzy.

In that time, Harry had been kicked out of his motel space, his belongings kicked out with him, and rushed to Mama Rosalie’s place in which had a spare bedroom for guessed and teenagers that she’d claimed as her own - Lisa had heartily sent him away with a wide smile and a small wave. In the time that Harry had been there, he’d found out that Mama Rosalie generally lived by herself as the matriarch of the family, different relatives coming over for a home-cooked meal by her talented hands - Harry now helping out when she’d discovered his ability in the kitchen, teaching him all of her recipes from easy to complicated.

The next ‘big event’ was the first date between Harry and Diego, which had started off awkward.

Harry had been fairly new to the idea of being in a relationship and doing all of these things. The only person he’d kissed had been Cho Chang in his fifth year (the random guy at that party that one time didn’t count), but Harry had never been past that point. When he was little, he’d been constantly degraded and hadn’t even been allowed friends, let alone childish girlfriend and he’d steered clear of relationship in his time at Hogwarts due to the fact that he was constantly watched and most girls only wanted to go out with him because he was the ‘Boy-Who-Lived’, instead of ‘Harry’ - they wanted his fame, not him personally.

So, everything that was happening was completely uncharted waters for Harry. He didn’t know the first thing about going on a date…

It started with Diego arriving at the door of his motel room, a large smile in place, dressed in normal clothes for blistering weather, a handful of green flowers in hand. Startled at the sight of the bunch of flowers, Harry hesitated before taking them, giving a strained smile with a flaming blush upon his cheeks as he quickly retreated into his flat and jerkily stuck them in his sink, hands floundering before he nodded at his decision and returned to Diego. Cheeks aflame with a mix of flattery and embarrassment, Harry stepped out of the flat, shocked again when Diego took his hand within his own and smiled down at Harry, understanding shining in his eyes.

With that, they both had left the motel with a small wave at Lisa as they started to walk down the street hand in hand, the silence between them stretching to an awkward length, before Harry finally broke the ice.

“ _ So, you got anything planned for tonight? _ ” he asked, looking up at the other teen shyly, feeling like a million thoughts were running through his head and one particularly alerting one was that he thoughts his hand was getting sweaty!

“ _ I was thinking that we go to some muggle areas. That way, we won't be interrupted by my brother or one of my other friends, _ ” he explained with a slight smile.

Immediately, Harry’s eyes lit up with interest, finally understanding why Diego had told him to bring his camera. “ _ Oh! Where do you have in mind? _ ”

The other smirked, “ _ You’ll have to wait and see, _ ” he chuckled at Harry’s small pout, “ _ Side-along apperation? _ ”

“ _ Er, sure, _ ” Harry nodded, his hand gripping tighter around his own as he prepared for the transportation.

In a blink of an eye, Harry and Diego were gone from the streets of the early evening crowd and then reappeared in an area that Harry had only glimpsed in books in his muggle school library, his eyes widening at such a beautiful sight that he didn’t think he’d ever see. In the low light of the evening, the place wasn’t as packed with tourists as it would have been, but there were still a few people about, taking pictures or walking about hand in hand with someone that they loved, looking more at their partner than the historical architecture a few feet away from them. It was the Chichen Itza and Harry had never expected the building to be as big as it was in reality.

As soon as he came out of his shock, Harry was practically jumping on the spot in excitement, grabbing Diego’s hand before he dragged them both off to the hundred stair climb, a spark of joy in his eyes that made Diego laugh. So focused on the monument and listening to Diego list off the facts that he knew about the building, which happened to be a lot, as well as it’s connection to the magical community, Harry had forgotten to be awkward and they were chatting away, Harry not even shying away when the Hispanic threw his arm around his shoulders as the night drew on. The story of the building was quite interesting, especially from Diego’s lips as he explained the time of around 600AD when the muggles actually knew about the magical folks and would meet in the temple every year to discuss an agreement of land and peace. However, like all good things, it soon came to an end when a new muggle that had been brought into the fold and trusted, killed one of the Witches as soon as he saw the display of magic, talking of Satan and evil deeds. After that, the magical community in Mexico went into hiding, much like most of the world at that time, and obliviated everyone that was in knowledge of them, effectively severing the tether between them. It had been a sad but fascinating story and Harry found himself easily tranced by the talking and discussions.

When the sky was getting dimmer and the tourists were being herded up to leave for the night, Diego grabbed Harry’s hand again as they ran around a corner, apparating mid-step as one of the guards tried to chase them out. In a blink of an eye, Harry suddenly found them near a chain of beautiful waterfalls, desolate from the crowd of tourists for the day - he recognised the place as Agua Azul Falls. They were on a ledge, the waterfall a beautiful display just to the side of them.

Waving his hand, Diego conjured a basket full of food, magic working around him as he muffled the sound of the waterfall so that the loud crash turned into a light drizzle, enabling them to contently talk and listen to one another, a weak disillusionment charm cast around them to keep prying eyes from noticing them from a distance and a drying spell and shielding charm were put up around the area so that the spray of the falls wouldn’t get them wet and uncomfortably soggy.

“ _ Pastry? _ ” he asked charmingly as he held out a packet of exactly that, still warm and steamy as if it were fresh from the oven, using his magic to place all of his chosen dishes around them. With a smile and a nod, Harry took the pastry and sat himself down in the soft, dry grass, legs comfortably folded beneath him as he took a bite, surprised that he hadn’t noticed how hungry he’d been earlier.

There was a comfortable silence between them as they ate their fill, both feeling plenty hungry to ignore one another for the moment as they satisfied their natural needs. When the night started to approach them with a fastening pace, Harry flicked his fingers and created four balls of light, letting them lazily dance and sway around them, casting both of them in a beautiful light that highlighted their attractive features.

With that, they started talking, asking one another about small, careless details like favourite colours and what their favourite lessons were. Harry talked about the good days in Hogwarts and the friends he’d left behind in both Wizarding Britain and Muggle America. Diego returned with stories of his own education days and times of when he’d been dragged into the naughty corner by his ear or the first spell he’d done that blew out the downstairs windows and embarrassing stories of his brother and friends growing up.

The conversation was casual and comfortable and Harry was surprised to find himself having a good time as he laughed along with Diego’s stories until his stomach started to hurt and his cheeks ached from his uncontrollable smiling - he suspected that Diego was the same way.

“ _ Alright, what’s the one thing that you have never told anyone before? _ ” Diego asked a random question, a smile on his lips as he pointed to himself, “ _ I’ll go first if it makes you feel better. _ ”

Harry paused for a moment, considering and then nodded his consent, making a silent gesture for the teen to carry on.

“ _ Right… _ ” the Hispanic trailed off, concentration and thought clearly indicated by the teen’s scrunched expression. Then his face suddenly lit up with an idea, snapping his fingers at his mental find, “ _ Okay, I’ve got one. When I was little, I broke my arm and I said to everyone else that I’d done it when I’d snuck out of my house in the night and encountered a Wumpus, heroically fighting it off and breaking my arm in the process… _ ”

“ _ But? _ ” Harry encouraged a bright grin on his face.

“ _ But that was a lie, _ ” the elder’s cheeks suddenly coloured scarlet at what was bound to be an embarrassing memory for him, “ _ I actually broke it by running away from my little brother. It was a game and I had stupidly indulged him due to the fact that he was being annoying. I saw that he was about to tag me when I’d paused at the stairs and instead of doing the normal thing and letting myself get caught and then running after him, I’d gotten it in my head that I must escape him. So what I did was bodily throw myself down the stairs, leaving my little brother wide-eyed and shocked as I finally fell down to the bottom and my arm was at an odd angle. I think that was the day that we truly discovered how competitive I was. _ ” he chuckled, Harry laughing along with him merrily.

“ _ And no one else knows but you and your close family? _ ” Harry asked between chuckles.

“ _ I don’t even think my dad actually knows the truth behind my broken arm… _ ” he trailed off with a mock-sombre expression, before bright eyes turned to Harry, grin back at full force as he made a little shooing motion with his hand. “ _ Now, you go. _ ”

“ _ Oh… _ ” Harry muttered, “ _ So many to choose from… _ ” and then he landed on a memory that had Harry pausing, and tilting his head in thought. It wasn’t the most pleasant of memories, but it was still one of the few he had that didn’t involve child abuse, neglect and starvation. “ _ Right. I’ve got one too, though I don’t think it’ll be as funny as yours… _ ”

He hesitated for a moment and his cheeks grew a little red but snapped out of it as he felt a warm hand around his own, making him look up. As his eyes connected with Diego’s soulful brown orbs, Harry sucked in a small breath of air, “ _ It’s okay. I’m all ears. You don’t have anything to fear from me. _ ” he quietly encouraged, giving Harry the confidence to carry on.

“ _ When I was in my second year at Hogwarts, I was twelve, we had a basilisk problem that I’d gotten mixed up in, _ ” Harry started, his mind casting back to the time where he actually thought he was going to die. In his first year, Harry hadn’t quite grasped the depth of danger he’d been in at the time until he’d sat and thought about it later, too young and naive to think that his life could have ended right then and there if it hadn’t been for the extreme circumstances. No, this had been the first time he’d thought he was going to die and it had been nightmare-inducing, terrifying… “ _ I only ever told people the bare minimum. There was a big basilisk under the school, I’d killed it with a bit of luck - that was if I was even asked. Others just made assumptions that the teachers had finally dealt with the petrifications of the students and that was that. The thing was crazy with centuries of loneliness and hunger, I’d lost my wand somewhere in the dark and I killed it with the sword of Gryffindor. The thing was long and way too heavy for me, I’d never used one in my life and I was just swinging it randomly, trying to kill the thing before it killed me. Through pure, idiot luck, I’d thrust the sword up just as it was opening it’s open to eat me and had stabbed it through the roof of its mouth and into the brain. I’d killed it, but not before I’d stuck a fang in my arm. _ ” he admitted, aiming a weak smirk at Diego when the older wizard gasped in horror, “ _ The venom worked fast, and I could feel my blood boiling with it, feeling hot and cold at the same time, my vision failing me - I knew I was close to death. Thankfully, the Headmaster had a Phoenix familiar and he cried on my wound, countering the venom and saving my life. What I didn’t count on were the effects. I’ve still got the scar from the fang and my blood is now an extremely venomous compound where the venom had spread far too much throughout my body for the tears to extract it all, so the Phoenix made it so the tears countered the venom in my blood, keeping me alive, but making my blood as venomous as a basilisk. _ ” he concluded with a small wave of his hand.

“ _ You missed out a ton didn’t you? _ ” Diego asked insightfully.

“ _ Yeah, _ ” Harry admitted with a shrug, “ _ But I told you the gist. _ ”

Nodding the other accepted, “ _ Fair enough. That’s one unbelievable story and I can see why you kept that one to yourself… Can I see the wound?” _ he asked, uncertain of whether he’d overstepped his bounds or not.

But Harry just smiled before he removed the small disillusionment charm on his more heavy scars (the spell was only powered enough so that people didn’t look twice and stare like most people tended to do), offering his right arm and willing one of his globes of light to come near. The light displayed the red, inflamed skin, still not faded even after all these years, a smooth dent in the middle to show the puncture of the long fang. Harry was just thankful that it hadn’t shattered his elbow joint and gone through the other side.

Harry stared down as he prepared for the gasp of horror and the poking the prodding of the scar as most people would do, but his eyes snapped open when he felt a soft pair of lips pecking the middle of the dent. Eyes trained on the other as Diego leaned back and gave Harry a charming grin, Harry couldn’t help the flush that spread throughout his whole face at the small and unexpected affection.

“ _ I’m guessing you learnt something from that encounter? _ ” Diego hinted, after a moment of silence between the two. At Harry’s frown of confusion, he explained, “ _ You just seem like someone that would come out with a life lesson after a life or death encounter. _ ”

“ _ I guess I had an epiphany of sorts? _ ” Harry started, thinking back, “ _ When I was ten, I wanted to learn how to fight to fend off the bullies in my neighbourhood. But then I turned eleven and I thought that my magic could protect me like it’d done my whole life through accidental magic and the sort. But after facing the basilisk, I’d lost my wand, I was blind and defenceless before I’d received that sword that the phoenix had brought me. I had no idea how to use the sword, I was weak, on my own, and had no idea how to fight. I won through sheer stupidity. I learnt that just because I had a wand, it didn’t make me invulnerable. _ ” he concluded, thoughts going back to his past ones. “ _ I’d tried to get some physical training at school, but the teachers had waved me off and said that it was a needless thing for a Wizard to learn. My carers wouldn’t lend me a penny for the training and I didn’t know how to get muggle money. I learnt a little when I was staying with this crazy Auror, but that was about it. _ ” he shrugged, wondering if he could find a place - he’d been a bit busy in America and hadn’t even thought of it until now.

“ _ I can teach you if you like? _ ” Diego interrupted his thoughts.

“ _ You can? _ ” Harry’s eyebrows shot to his hairline.

“ _ Well, I don’t know how to fight, _ ” the Mexican admitted, “ _ But I can get you in shape, build some muscle. I usually take runs and physical exercises so that I don’t get soft around the middle. You can do it with me if you want? _ ”

“ _ I think that’ll be great. _ ” Harry nodded as he smiled radiantly at the other, making him blush and gulp at the beautiful sight that Harry made.

“ _ Cool, we can start tomorrow morning, _ ” he offered, before he flicked his hand for the time and started to pack everything away, “ _ It’s quite late so we should be getting to bed if we wanna do my morning workouts. _ ” he grinned at Harry when he stood up, packed basket in hand before he offered his arm for a side-along apparation.

In a pop, Harry was outside his motel again and he walked Harry to his door, kissing the blushing teenager on the cheek as a good night. Finding his courage, Harry leaned up and pecked the other on the lips, smirking at the delighted expression on the other’s face, “ _ Thanks. And I don’t mean just for the amazing date. _ ” and then softly shut the door behind him, grinning ear to ear as he got into bed, excited to see the handsome teen tomorrow morning.

It was fair to say that from that point on, there were many more dates between them. Though the constant work out sessions had Harry wondering why he was dating the dreamy Mexican in the first place, but that was quickly cleared up for him when they shared a peck on the lips for each of his accomplishments.

* * *

Another change came a week into his stay at Mama Rosalie’s, when he’d whipped out his trusty wand and wordlessly transfigured one of the hard cushions in a fluffy blanket for the night, phone in hand. The next day, Harry was escorted by the Staff Master by the Flores siblings. The shop reminded him slightly of Olivander’s little store, the dim lighting and the thin layers of dust upon the area making Harry think that he’d been transported into his eleven-year-old body and was about to be greeted by the skeletal and pale man with the large and clouded eyes. Only, the boxes were longer and the floors were covered in thread-bare carpet instead of creaky wooden floorboards, and the boxes were placed on shelves or just floating about the place in lazy circles instead of clumsily and messily piled atop one another. The owner looked far healthier if a little deranged in the way he spoke, but normal with tan skin and a thick body that told Harry that he got out on a daily basis and eat properly, if not healthily.

Instantly, Harry was swept away from his friends and manhandled into the middle of the floor and told to take out his wand and hold it out in front of him with both hands, to close his eyes, and picture his core and focus on bringing it out into the open. With a brief look at Fern and ‘Nando, he did as he was asked with their nods of encouragement, letting his eyes slide closed and controlling his breathing to deep and calming inhales and exhales, his consciousness sinking deeper and deeper into his magical core, focusing on bringing it out. When he heard a collection of astonished gasps, Harry’s eyes snapped open, though he still concentrated on his core, and they widened as he saw what had the Staff Master and his friends so shocked. He was practically bathed in light, a white light mixing with gold at the very centre, laced with a dark purple that looked almost black if you turned your head slightly, the outer layer of his core was a mix of different lights, of reds, greens and blues, colours that would clash working so well together, and moved between one another, they looked like the northern lights. The circumference of the light was so large, it took over the whole shop, reaching all of the dark corners with unimaginable light that made Harry feel like he was at peace, he could tell that the effect was the same for the three occupants as their shoulders relaxed and their expressions melted into small comforting smiles. The first to shake out of the calm-daze was the Staff Master, his eyes back to being round with astonishment and awe as he looked at Harry’s still form.

“ _ Never before have I seen anything like this… _ ” he breathed, stepping further into the light, neck craned up as he tried to look at the whole sphere of magic that Harry was emitting. The Staff Master was still trying to look at the whole thing even as it began to ebb away back into Harry’s small form that was so much more deciding than anyone would have guessed, the magical power within him was equivalent to a magical powerhouse and several once at that! 

“ _ Was that normal? _ ” Harry asked, slightly concerned for the reactions he’d received.

The man jerkily shook his head, swallowing a few times to get his tongue to work, blinking at the sports in his vision due to the extensive amount of light, “ _ N-No. But it’s nothing bad. But that is the most powerful and largest magical core that I have ever seen before in my life… _ ” he trailed off, wide dark eyes still on Harry’s form - making the younger shift slightly in discomfort.

“ _ Does this mean I can’t get a staff? _ ” he asked, internally batting away his disappointment in not being able to get something that was so important to the Magical Mexican community. At least he still had his wand.

“ _ What? _ ” he asked, jolted from his thoughts, before quickly catching on, “ _ Of course you can? You have a wand, don’t you? A wand is much like a staff in many ways, though they are also different in many ways as well. _ ”

“ _ Oh… _ ” Harry trailed off, looking at his worn wand with contemplative eyes, “ _ But when I first got my wand, most of my core and magical abilities were already blocked? Doesn’t that affect the conditions in which the wand chooses the owner? _ ” wondering if this wand was actually destined to Harry’s use or if he’d been cheated from another thing by Albus (he decidedly ignored the rational part of his brain that pointed out the fact that his wand still worked perfectly despite the binding of his magical powers).

The three in the store seemed to lose the pigment in their skin upon hearing this, but all of them quickly and battled through their horror and rising anger with pursed lips and clearing of their throats. It was none of their business and it was obvious by Harry’s pained expression that this was one of many topics that was just too much to talk about.

Bulldozing over his want to shout and demand the name of this horrible offender that was no better than a disgusting rapist, the Staff Master shook his head, “ _ That doesn’t matter. A wand chooses you for you, not because of your core or magic - though it does help. There’s a staff for everyone, even if it has to be made for you. _ ” he explained, before pausing, a look of interest spreading upon his face, “ _ How do European Wizards pick their wands? _ ”

“ _ Well, _ ” Harry started, thinking back to his first introduction to the Magical world with Hagrid by his side, “ _ I’m not sure what they did in other countries in Europe, but in England, ever eleven-year-old goes to  _ Diagon Ally _ to get their first wand from  _ Olivanders _. His place is kind of like this, but it’s darker and messier. He usually measures your wand arm and then puts random wands in your hand until he gets a positive reaction to it. What about you? _ ” He asked tilting his head to the side.

“ _ I usually get the kid to walk around the store with their eyes closed, and listen to their instincts - the first wand they pick is usually the right one. _ ” he shrugged, before getting back down to work with his curiosity satisfied. “ _ I know just the one for you, _ ” he muttered more to himself than to Harry, waggling his finger as he stepped deeper into his shop and through the stacks.

A minute passed before he wandered back in, a long staff held delicately in his hands. The wood was a blended mix of white and black, a slight bend in the middle, like a meander in a straight river, the splinters of black and white making it look grey in places. The top of the staff reached Harry’s eyes when it was stood on the floor, making it a comfortable height for Harry. At the top, the blend of wood separate into four small branches that curled around two stones, one of them was a white crystal and the other was black onyx, the jaded crystals pushed together.

“ _ This is a blend with a core of phoenix feather and thestral hair, the wood is a mix of ebony and ash, with a moonstone and onyx crystals on the top, five feet tall. A fine staff, but a very unusual blend. _ ” he listed off as he handed the staff to Harry, the teen staring at the staff with awed eyes.

Upon making contact with the staff, the room burst into a blinding light streamed with shadow, an ominous wind whipping around the small room before it dimmed and everybody was looking at the source of it.

“Whoa…” Harry breathed, wide-eyed at the staff, already he could feel his power leaking into it, making the stones in the staff shine a little bit brighter. It felt like when he’d first gotten his wand, making him feel whole and in control of everything that he didn’t know was even out of his control. He then looked at the Staff Master, a question in his eyes, “ _ Can I put this in my chest? _ ”

“ _ Not at the moment, _ ” Fran spoke up, shaking her head with an admiring look in her eyes, “ _ But you’ll be able to do it within a month, maybe even a few weeks with how big your core is. Your staff needs to be saturated in your magic before you can do that. _ ”

It was only a week later that the staff was finally saturated enough in his magic to put it in his chest. There wasn’t really much of a ritual or anything, but it was a familial gathering when one such thing occurred and so Diego, Jesus, Fernando, Fernanda and Juana were all present for the event. First, it was a strange thing as Harry looked wide-eyed at the staff, trying not to freak out at how something so big was supposed to just fit in his chest, it should be impossible. But then, after Diego, Juana and the Flores siblings showed Harry, all of them being of age to have a staff, unlike Jesus, Harry was able to concentrate on the staff and current of magic that was stored inside of it. In one smooth motion, Harry lifted the end up and lightly pressed it to the middle of his chest and then with only a second of resistance at the start, the long piece of wood slid into his chest, his skin glowing brighter and the light growing as more of it was consumed until the tip of the crystals disappeared.

Suddenly, with a small flash that blinded the occupants of the room, Harry was stood there, bare-chested with no staff in sight and a staff-tattoo on his chest. The multitude of colours against his chest were entwined and beautiful, swirling over his skin like wisps of magic, though the most prominent colouring would have been the white that seemed tinted with gold, a dark purple weaving through it artfully, as the centre-piece of his chest. The twist of colours, all shades of reds, greens and blues tickled the sides of his ribs and brushed his shoulders seeming to end like fast brushstrokes of a painted canvas. The design was beautiful and it reflected his core extremely well, making his lips stretch into a wide goofy smile of delighted pride, which the rest of the occupants laughed and applauded at.

The rest of the night was spent in the home, celebrating with drink and good cheer, Harry doing so until his speech was an undecipherable jumble of Spanish, Latin and English, which resulted in Diego helping him up the stairs to his room, in order to pass out, face down in his sheets.

The morning after was not at all a pleasant experience for Harry…

* * *

Most of Harry’s days were spent chilling out, completing some mundane chores and helping Mama Rosalie around the house. Sometimes, he joined others in their shops or stalls in the market, helping them organise or sell things, or even make them as he’d been taught by some. The Flores family had a flower stall, in which they sold flowers of both magical and muggle origins, sometimes they even sold hybrids which Harry didn’t know was possible with plants. They often invited him to a day at their market stall, knowing full well that Harry had a remarkable green thumb from all his time tending to the Dursley’s garden when he was younger - quite ironic in Harry’s opinion due to his status as Master of Death. Other days he helped Juana in sorting out the massive, five-floor, extremely large library, either dusting the sections or alphabetising them - talking to one another or Harry teaching English upon Juana’s persistent interest in it. Diego’s job was in construction, the handy-man of the town, fixing things or building them to improve the neighbourhood as a whole - sometimes he even went to the muggle world to help in building things from massive projects to lone houses. Mama Rosalie’s job was teaching history to the little ankle-biters and she’d dragged him to her class once - nearly by his ear - at her persistence. Apparently, while he was not dead enough to be considered a ‘historical icon’, Harry was still a huge part of history in the making.

Muttering in English about the craziness of old ladies (which he thinks Mama Rosalie understood the gist of with her narrowed eyes), rubbing his sore arm and pouting slightly before turning to look at his audience of children with wide eyes. He glared heatedly at the five teenagers at the back, who all wore delighted smirks, obviously enjoying his pain - except Diego, who was looking at Harry with bright and encouraging eyes because he’s just the best example of human beings that the whole species had to offer. Discretely rubbing his clammy palms on his long vest shirt, Harry wondered ideally why he was so nervous. He cast his mind back to fifth year when he’d taught defence to students both older and younger than he was, whilst sneaking around and hiding from teachers, caretakers and Slytherins alike. Why was he so terrified of so many small children looking up at him, expecting him to talk about something as simple as himself? Maybe that was the issue? He’d never really talked about himself like he was a subject before, it’d trip anyone out to have to do this.

Turning slightly hysterical eyes to Mama Rosalie, hoping that she would see how freaked he was and just say to her class that he had to go back to England because he was dying of embarrassment and shame. Though his silent wishes were unanswered as she gave him an unimpressed raised eyebrow and crossed her arms with finality, making Harry’s eye twitch with annoyance at the situation.

Swiftly, he turned back to the patiently waiting crowd and gave a wide smile, clapping his hands as to get the ball rolling. Hopefully, he could make it through this without sounding like Quarrel. “ _ Hi, my full name is  _ Hadrian James Potter _ , but I just like to be called  _ Harry _. I was born in England, I’m currently seventeen, I went to  _ Hogwarts _ School of Witchcraft and Wizardry when I was eleven and at sixteen I lead Britain’s Second Wizarding war. Any questions? _ ”

Instantly, many small hands were in the air, waving and eager for him to pick them and Harry tried not to sigh too loudly at how long this could take. Nonetheless, he started to pick some children, answering things like what Hogwarts was and what it looked like and then the foundations of the house. He was also asked about the Deathly Hallows and how he’d achieved them, which he had answered with a jumble of words and uncertain white lies, not entirely sure if he should tell them that he’d achieved the invisibility cloak by accident, the stone from his dead Headteacher that he watched die and the wand by actually dying… Yeah, maybe not such a good idea. They asked him about his hobbies, his likes and dislikes, his family (the Dursleys were not included) and his staff, which he brought out to show. Then he got asked a question that was unexpected.

It was a little girl in row three, her dress a nice water-died red and her feet bare, a white headband on top of her head, with her hand up in the air. When Harry picked her, she seemed ecstatic and eager, like most of the children, “ _ Can you tell us about your patronus? _ ” which made him stumble and fault slightly, before he shrugged it off and told his story of his third year at Hogwarts. He told of the so-called 'terrible criminal' that had unwittingly escaped, of the werewolf professor, of the rat in hiding, of the ghostly dementors that had surrounded the school that year and how he’d saved the life of his wrongly accused godfather with time travel, his patronus and his best friend Hermione.

By the end, both the children and the teenage spectators were awed at his tale, and then the little girl raised her hand once again, Harry gesturing to her with a gentle smile that seemed sadder than anything else - that was always a painful story to tell because, in the end, his hopes and dreams of moving away from the Dursleys were poetically crushed in a matter of seconds, and that memory always followed up with the Department of Mysteries where he watched with helpless eyes as Sirius took his last breath and his body was taken by the veil, leaving nothing to even return to the ground…

“ _ Can you show us your patronus? _ ” she asked innocently, completely ignorant to his inner thoughts, though Harry caught Fernando tearing up in the back with a horrified expression on his face for some reason that made Harry’s stomach drop with dread.

“ _ Sure. _ ” he agreed easily, always happy to see Prongs. With a flick of his fingers, white light seemed to filter from his hands before it gathered slowly into a corporeal form. Not ten seconds later, a massive glowing white stag stood in Mama Rosalie’s living room, turning its head this way and that for anger. “It’s fine, Prongs. Just doing a bit of show and tell,” he spoke to it in English, his hand resting against the warm muzzle briefly before the patronus moved and started trotting about the room, the children making sounds of awe and wonder as they stood up briefly to touch the beautiful creature, smiling at the pure happiness and peace that Prongs gave off whenever touched. “ _ His name is  _ Prongs,” he explained with a real smile, switching back to Spanish, “ _ My patronus is a stag because my father along with some of his friends were animaguses. They’d made the potion when they were in school, having wanted to keep their werewolf friend company on the full moons. He was a stag and my godfather was a large black dog. _ ” he explained, a look in his eyes as if he wasn’t there, but in his own mind trying to picture what he was describing.

With the questions moving on from his patronus, he ended up telling stories of his years at Hogwarts, though he made sure to censor them or made it as vague as possible. So his first year had ended with “the stuttering professor was no more” instead of “my hands seemed to hurt him, so I grabbed his face until the screaming stopped and skin gave way to crumbling chunks of ash”. By the time he was finished, the day was beginning to conclude and the children were being collected by gently smiling parents to get them ready for bed, despite the little children not seeming to be tired, wanting to know more of Harry’s tales and adventures. Some of them even began to cry and sob when their parents told them that “It’s too late and Mr Potter is very tired” which was only eased by Harry’s promise to answer any more questions if they saw him doing nothing in the streets.

When the last child was picked up and left the premises, Harry sighed heavily in an almost-groan, before flopping ungracefully on the long sofa, swallowing around his dry throat uncomfortably. Merlin, he didn’t think he’d spoken so much in his life. Not thirty seconds later, he was joined by his five friends, all of them sinking down onto the chairs around them, the silence heavy between them.

“ _ Was that all true? _ ” Diego was the first to ask, his hands soothingly stroking through Harry’s dark hair that really needed to be cut, or at least trimmed, having made the teen sit up for a moment before sitting down and laying Harry’s head on his thigh. Juana had Harry’s legs over his own lap after picking them up and manoeuvring them to her want.

“ _ No, _ ” he admitted, lips twitching when they seemed to sigh with relief, all accept Fernando, who seemed especially haunted, “ _ I edited out the worst bits. No need to give them nightmares. _ ” he gave a sad smile up at Diego upon feeling him tense up at the admission. Green eyes tiredly looked into dark brown, “ _ I don’t want to talk about it. _ ” there was a further moment of silence before Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes, really feeling the exhaustion now that he’d sat down for a few moments. Skilfully and in one fluid movement, Harry twisted himself off of his human cushions, standing himself up with a long stretch of his arms, “ _ You know, I’m really sorry guys, but I think I’m gonna go to bed. Good night. _ ” he smiled at all of them, leaning down to kiss Diego on the cheek goodnight before hopping up the stairs, more than ready for bed.

In his room, Harry sighed as he shut the door behind him, immediately taking off his shirt before throwing it in the hamper that transported all of his dirty clothing to the laundry room on a weekly basis. He was just about to strip down to his underwear when a small knock came at his door and opened before he could even say anything. Frowning and about to reprimand the intruder, he paused when he saw Fernando, his knuckles white as they gripped the handle of his door and closed it behind him, he looked ill with a pale face and red, puffy eyes as if he was about to cry, the haunted quality in them didn’t make him look any healthier.

“ _ Oh my god, ‘Nando? Are you okay? Do you want me to get your sister? _ ” Harry asked, hands hovering over the teen with a concerned frown, unsure if contact would be the best thing at the moment.

The teen shook his head, his hand taking Harry’s as he led them to Harry’s bed, the green-eyed Wizard letting himself be tugged. “ _ No. I just need to talk to you for a moment. It won't take long,” he reassured, pulling his shaky hands through his dark hair, “Do you know what legilimency is? _ ”

Frowning slightly, Harry nodded. Not only had he been taught about it by Hermione when they were younger, but it was also a traumatic event with Voldemort due to their connection. He was distinctly reminded of his and Professor Snape’s ‘extra potions sessions’. “ _ Yeah, why? _ ”

“ _ Well, _ ” Fernando started hesitantly, “ _ My family are very apt in that form of magic and the ability is almost hereditary. I am more powerful than my sister, but my ability is very untrained and usually, I don’t pick up many thoughts or memories as long as I don’t actively search. The only time that I do pick them up unintentionally is when it is a highly stressful and emotional thought or memory, _ ” As the Mexican Wizard continued to explain, Harry’s eyes slowly widened and his face grew steadily pale at the implications that Fernando was getting at.

“Oh, Morgana!” Harry nearly shrieked, placing his hands gently on ‘Nando’s shoulders, looking so completely apologetic it looked like he was about to burst into tears. “ _ I am so sorry. No one should have to go through with what I forced on you. Did you see… did you see everything? _ ” he asked, completely horrified that he had forced those terrible memories on someone without even meaning to - Merlin, what if one of the children had the same abilities as Fernando!?

“ _ No, _ ” ‘Nando interrupted his panicked train of thought with a firm shake of his head, “ _ This is not your fault. That - That teacher knew nothing of the mind arts. What he did was cruel and a violation to your mind. That is an old teaching method, and one that not many can learn by, _ ” he shook his head bitterly, damn near spitting with rage at what he’d seen Snape do to Harry - what he’d seen countless authoritative adults do to Harry and others in that horrid school. “ _ I’m fine, really Harry. _ ” he reassured with a smile, “ _ The memories and emotions are not mine, the effects are not lasting as they are for you and will fade within a matter of days, if not hours. _ "

“ _ I’m still really sorry that you had to experience any of that. _ ” Harry persisted his guilt not as crushing as it was, but still there.

“ _ I’m sorry that you had to actually live through that. It was horrible. _ ” ‘Nando shuddered, eyes flicking to Harry’s lightening-bolt scar that had so much horror and pain attached to it. It wasn’t worth the fame in Harry’s eyes and Fernando wholeheartedly agreed in a way that not even Ron or Hermione ever really could, having not known or experienced the pain that Harry had gone through, not really anyway.

“ _ Did you have a point to all this? _ ” Harry asked, trying to sound as polite as he could in his exhausted state.

The dark-eyed Wizard nodded his head, “ _ I wanted to offer you lessons. You do have shields to keep from people entering, but they are poorly built, with holes and cracks that can easily be infiltrated. And it’s a help to learn legilimency first and then occlumency will come easier after. _ ”

At the offer, Harry frowned. While he’d love to learn something that his deceased headmaster had deprived of him, occlumency being one of the many things that were one-hundred percent blocked, he didn’t like the idea of hearing people’s random thoughts and so expressed that to Fernando.

In reply, the teen shook his head, “ _ It doesn’t work like that, _ ” he began in a lecturing-voice, “ _ My powers were hereditary, mine is more powerful and instinctual. If one were to learn it, they can control how and when they would do it, they wouldn’t have the power or affinity to sustain a constant flow of mind magic that is already quite hard to master for Magicals that aren’t born with it. _ "

Harry nodded, interested in the possibilities that this would present to him, the protection that would enable him to sleep easier at night, as well as prevent his horrible memories from effecting those that had no wish to see his war zone of a mind. “ _ Would you be training me? _ ” he asked, curious.

“ _ No, _ ” Fernando shook his head, “ _ I’m not as well trained, but my dad is an expert - he’d be able to teach you easily. He’s teaching me to control mind right now - I’m sure he’d be delighted to take on another student - not many Wizards are interested in mind magics here, soul magic is more popular. _ ”

“ _ Soul magic? _ ” Harry asked, curious.

“ _ Like rituals, our staffs, contacting the Ancestors. Your patronus is a piece of very powerful soul magic - it’s very difficult to do it as easily as you did. Most would need their staff and some can’t cast one at all, _ ” ‘Nando explained and then chuckled, slapping Harry on his shoulder, “ _ You’re probably more known for your Corporeal Patronus here than your position in the war. _ ”

Rolling his eyes with a fond smile, Harry shoved the chuckling teen, making Fernando nearly topple off his bed, if he hadn’t caught his feet and stood up. Standing up as well, Harry clasped the other on the shoulder, catching ‘Nando’s attention as Harry looked at him with green eyes full of gratitude, “ _ I can’t tell you how much this means to me, mate. Seriously, you and your family have my thanks for doing this for me. _ ”

“ _ No problem, amigo. What are friends for? _ ” he shrugged easily, smiling warmly down at Harry, “ _ Now get to bed, you look like crap. _ ” he chuckled, easily dodging Harry’s smack before he bolted out the door and down the hall.

With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Harry finished changing into his night shorts before flicking the lights off with his hand and climbing into bed, the weight on his chest feeling lighter than it had before. That night, his sleep was peaceful and dreamless with the knowledge that soon, he would be protected from mind violators and lunatics alike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funny thing: Diego’s little funny story is partially true XD My step brother was the one throwing himself down the stairs because he was being chased by my step sister (seven years younger than he is XD), but instead of his arm breaking, he broke his big toe… Ahh, siblings…


End file.
